


having the time of your life

by porcelaincarnival



Series: you can jive! [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Avengers Family, Ballet, But no one believes that it actually happened, Crack, Dancing, Domestic Avengers, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Mention of Lip Sync Battle, Peter can dance, Peter is a Little Shit, Precious Peter Parker, Team as Family, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelaincarnival/pseuds/porcelaincarnival
Summary: 5 times Peter was caught dancing when he thought no one was watchingand 1 time Peter didn’t dance alone





	1. Steve

**Author's Note:**

> my first 5+1 fic ! i love the idea of merging tom holland's dancing abilities into peter parker, so that's what i did lol  
> (each chapter will revolve around a certain hero)

Sunday

 

Being the figurehead for a country that had a chia pet as a president is exhausting.  Especially when you are an ex-fugitive, it’s embarrassing being on the run and hearing, _“Captain America?  More like Colonel Criminal.”_ When Steve and the rest of the ex-Avengers (ex-ex-Avengers?) moved back in, it was a relief.

 

One of the main reasons Steve was glad to be back in Avengers tower was he had privacy.  Going rogue really made him appreciate being able to shower in peace and other small details that he used to take for granted. (He had way too many close calls when it came to things like nudity)

 

So there he was, four am, doing whatever the heck he pleased.  Steve was having difficulty sleeping, PTSD really just made him grin.  He knew that the only solutions were to either hate himself by staying in bed or resorting to classic home remedies.  

 

Deciding it was better to feel like his mother than feel hopeless, he left his quarters in quest to go to the communal kitchen.  He was one of the few resident Avengers who didn’t have his own personal kitchen. He remembered pleading for one to Tony.

 

_“Come on, why are you so against a kitchenette?”_

 

_“They have knives, no offence, but you still have outlaw written all over you, it’s like one of those smells that just doesn’t go away.  I think it’s the beard.”_

 

_“Tony, I won’t go evil and stab anyone,”  he felt his patience wearing thin, “and what’s wrong with my beard?”_

 

_“I’m not having this conversation, nice talk, Zeus.”_

 

After arguing for days on end, he was confined to the small conjoined kitchen in the main living area.  Reclined tiredly against the elevator wall, he stared at the roof in defeat. He distinctly remembered that Tony’s AIs seemed to reside in the ceiling and wondered if they also harbored a mutual hatred towards him.

 

The moment he stepped out the elevator he heard shuffling on the tiled floor.  Steve’s hairs stood on end, feeling a presence somewhere in the room. Who would be up at this hour?  Sure, the Avengers collectively had sleeping issues, but it was hard to repress the thought of a break in.  Tony’s systems, even security, tended to be faulty at times.

 

He scanned the space around him for something to arm himself with.  Settling for a broom that was leaning against the wall (left after _someone_ decided to bring in a random dog renamed Lucky, who didn’t live up to its name and made a huge mess) Steve grabbed it and inched towards the kitchen.

 

The closer he got, the more he could make out faint music.  Peering around the corner, Steve sighed in relief. It was just Peter.  He was about to rest a hand on the teen’s shoulder to alert him of the his presence but instead gaped at what he was witnessing.  

 

Peter was standing in front of the toaster, ears covered with white headphones, and just jamming out.  He wasn’t singing (Steve could _hear_ the music, it was turned up extremely loud) but dancing in place.  Judging from what he could detect, the lyrics went along the lines of a “Mr. Brightside”.  Steve didn’t understand what it meant, maybe teen slang? The super soldier leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching in admiration.

 

peter was doing weird kicks and air-guitaring, enjoying his little one man band.  He paused, then head-banged. Steve’s eyes bulged out of his own head, if Peter moved his forehead any farther down he would be sticking his nose in the toaster.

 

“Peter, be careful!”  he said, deciding it was a good time to intervene.

 

Peter stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look at Steve with what seemed to be a guilty look on his face.

 

“Captain Rogers!  Hi!” he tried for a grin, “Why do you have a broom?  Gonna do some late-night spring cleaning?”

 

Steve just smiled, “No, just picked it up.  What are you listening to?” He passed Peter to go to the cupboard, taking out a chamomile tea bag.  There was already a kettle on the stove, so he set to boil some water.

 

He knew that the kid was worrying if Steve watched him have a dance recital by himself, it was written all in his posture, he was hunched in embarrassment, but ‘played it cool’.

 

“It’s called _Mr. Brightside_ , it’s by a band called The Killers.”

 

“The Killers?!  Are they actually?”

 

“What?  No, that’s just their band name.”  Peter laughed, the nervousness melting away.  He jumped nearly one second later, his toast popping up scared him more than it should have.  He grabbed it, hissing, and threw it onto his plate.

 

“Get to bed after you eat, Peter.  You need your rest.” Steve instructed, not in the leaderly way he usually spoke in, but in a tender tone.

 

“I will! I was up late doing my history assignment.  I’m almost finished, but I got hungry.”

 

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?  I’m the living embodiment of National Geographic.”

 

“I didn’t wanna bother you.”  Peter said, buttering his toast, avoiding eye contact.

 

Steve poured the water into his mug, “It’s no bother at all.  What’s the topic?”

 

“World War 2.”

 

“Perfect, grab your midnight snack and let’s go to your room to look over that project, huh?”


	2. Natasha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry if i didn't use any dance terms correctly !! it is not my area of expertise,, but i hope you all enjoy nonetheless !

Monday

 

Natasha never expected to see the training room as a dance studio.

 

It was late in the warm, autumn afternoon when she decided it would be a great time to get some practice time alone.  Most of the guys were out “being bros” (code name: went to a bar, on a _Monday_ ) or going to their actual homes for the day, so the assassin didn’t have to worry about company.

 

She pulled back her hair in a sleek low ponytail, decked out in exercise clothes and went down to the presumably empty training room.  She felt relaxed, which was a first. It was a slow day, but she enjoyed it nonetheless, having learned to take advantage of free time whenever she got it.

 

As she approached, her back straightened as a familiar piano suite filled her ears.   _ Tchaikovsky _ , she thought bitterly.  It only took a few notes for her to remember gripping the bar so tight her knuckles were white.

 

_ Why is there piano playing? _ She asked herself.  The only people in the tower at that moment were Vision, Wanda, Peter, and Bruce.  It was plausible that it could be Bruce listening to classical music, but why in that room?  He avoided the training room like a plague, purposefully not making eye contact with the door like it will become sentient and attack him.

 

She walked in through the open doors and eyed the parameter, checking for people.  She halted when she saw Peter.

 

Doing triple pirouettes.

 

Natasha was beyond shocked.  Here she thought she was the only ballerina in the team.

 

Silently watching, she observed the teen from behind a punching bag.

 

He didn’t seem to be doing a choreographed routine, but instead making it up as he went along.  She watched in awe as the usually clumsy Peter gracefully performed piqué turns and chaînés across the parts of the floor not covered in mats.  He did sautés, temps levés, jetés, assemblés, and sissonnes. He even sprinkled in little tricks that was more gymnastics than ballet.

 

When the music came to a dramatic finish, he bowed, and turned around.

 

“You need to work on your form in arabesques, and you have a problem with sickling your feet.”

 

He froze where he stood, not realizing the spy was observing him the entire time.  He had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead and tried to discreetly wipe it away.

 

“Oh hey Ms. Romanov!  Didn’t see you there! Haha!”  Peter remembered when Steve caught him dancing early that morning.  This was even worse because Natasha was a trained dancer. It would have been less mortifying if she didn’t correct him on his technique.

 

“I didn’t know that you could dance, Peter.”  She walked over to where the radio was and leaned on the wall behind it.

 

He wrung his fingers, “Well, not really, see, I kinda learned watching movies and stuff, so I don’t even know half of the names of the stuff I just did.”

 

Natasha gave him a gentle smile, “Well I do, and giving credit where it’s due, you actually did those really well considering the lack of experience.”

 

Peter blushed but grinned back, “Thank you!  I dunno, I always liked ballet and stuff but we couldn’t afford dance lessons and I would have gotten bullied for it anyway…”

 

“Nonsense.  And it’s never too late to get professionally taught.  I could help you if you’re interested.”

 

“Wait, really?”  Peter looked genuinely excited, “aw, you don’t have to!”

 

“It’d be my pleasure.  We can start now.” She was happy to see him so enthusiastic.  It was refreshing to see a boy as talented as him not worried about tainting his masculinity.

 

“That’d be so cool!  Thank you!” He twirled a bit before standing in front of Natasha, “so, where do we start?”

 

“From the beginning, basics.”

 

He deflated, “But I want to do stuff like turns and spins.”

 

“You can’t if you don’t know what a plié is.”

 

“I can too!”

 

“Show me then,” she smirked.  Peter stared at the ground in concentration.

 

“You need a bar to hold onto, Peter.”

 

“Oh, right, I knew that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next will be a certain irondad !


	3. Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick update before a hectic rest of the week !

Tuesday

  


“FRIDAY, turn on the radio, like the top hits of today or whatever.”

  


Tony loved bands like Led Zeppelin and AC/DC, but sometimes he wanted to change things up a bit.  He was in his lab with Peter working on the kid’s suit. After an unfortunate scuffle with a volcano themed villain, Peter’s suit was charred and his pride in flames.

  


They were currently working on making not only the suit fireproof, but possibly his webs too.  Tony focused more on the engineering side than Peter, who was in the corner at the chemistry setup.  The web fluid needed to be efficient in water and fire situations, so he was over there being a little Mendeleev and experimenting.

  


While they worked in quiet harmony, the billionaire scrunched his nose in disgust, “This is music?  What happened to actual songs? Is this what you kids listen to nowadays?” He complained to Peter, who was actually enjoying the selection.

  


“What’s wrong with Cardi B?”  he asked in mock offense

  


“Everything!  FRIDAY can rap better than her.  Today you don’t have to have talent to get famous.”

  


“Is that what happened for you?”  Peter sassily teased

  


“Exactly.”

  


“But the thing about the radio is that it overplays songs by popular people.  The real gems aren’t broadcasted. That’s why I use Spotify.”

  


“What’s a… Spotify?”  the unfamiliar word rolled off Tony’s tongue bitterly, what’s better than a CD or a Walkman?

  


Peter groaned dramatically, “Spotify’s a music app, if you make music you can put your stuff there and that’s why there’s so many small artists with really good songs.”

  


“That’s not how it was when I was your age.  We had the radio, that’s it. No fancy  _ Spotify _ , Sad Clown, or Pangaea.”  

  


“I think you mean Soundcloud and Pandora.”

  


“Potato pah-tato.  Give me an example of a ‘small artist with good songs’.”  Tony used air quotes tauntingly.

  


“I have a bunch, Billie Eilish is my personal favorite, she’s like, 16.”

  


“Only a year older than you?  Wow.”

  


“Yeah, she’s so good. Dodie Clark, she goes by dodie.  Conan Gray. Daughter. Cavetown.”

  


“I have no clue who any of those people are.”

  


“Your loss old man, next week can we play my playlist?”

  


“For that comment, no.”

  


They shared a laugh, turning back to their tasks.

  


About an hour passed and Tony noticed that the motormouth teen hadn’t said anything the entire time.  That made him worry just a  _ tiny  _ bit.  Pulling off his goggles, he looked over his shoulder.

  


He almost laughed out loud.

  


Peter, facing the beakers, was salsa dancing.

  


It was a strange sight as he was wearing a lab apron, safety goggles, and gloves and was moving to the beat.  The song was talking about Havana? And east Atlanta? Na na na?

  


Tony has been to Cuba before, and the natives usually didn’t wear science pun shirts and converse.

  


Tony just put down the suit and watched him in amusement.  

  


The song was experiencing an instrumental break, so Peter moved his hips more.  Tony wished that the rest of the team was able to see this, it was golden. He made a mental note to buy the kid a flamenco dress or something.  Wait, was that the wrong culture?

  


Once the song ended, Tony said, “Does Aunt May know you dance like that?”

  


Peter coughed, “You didn’t just-”

  


“See that?  Hell yeah I did.  Where did you learn how to dance like that?”

  


“The music video,” Peter mumbled.  The third time he had been caught getting a little too hyped in a week!  Do they all talk about him when he’s not listening and sharing stories about catching him?

  


“You have to teach Pepper how to do that, she’s been complaining about Zumba and maybe this’ll be a change for her.”

  


“Mr. Stark, you don’t realize how much I can’t do that.”

  


“She’d love it, she thinks you’re adorable.”

  


“But, ugh,”  Peter screwed the cap back onto the salicylic acid.

  


“Does your girlfri-”

  


“MJ’s not my girlfriend!  Oh my God, Mr. Stark!” he covered his red face, “I’m going to the kitchen, I’m done here.”  He threw off his safety precautions with a flourish and walked out.

  


Tony let him walk out of the lab, a smile lingering on his face as Peter huffed while going to get a snack and juice. 

  


“FRIDAY, did you save a recording of the little shit dancing?”

  


_ “Already ahead of you, boss.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all enjoyed !


	4. Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry that it's been so long since the last chapter ! generic but true excuse: school sucks !!   
> enjoy !

Wednesday

 

Sam didn’t surprise anyone when he protested against staying back.

 

While he recovered from a deep bullet wound in his shoulder, he was forced to stay behind from a mission that everyone went to.  Sam found it frustrating, he’s been through worse, hell, he survived accidentally spilling beer on Natasha during a team party. He would be fine!  Unfortunately, they made him to stay and “recover”.

 

Almost everyone.  He was forced to babysit the Spider-Brat.  Sam didn’t know where in the tower the kid was because once Tony put his foot down, (“Aunt May told me that if you don’t get your Spanish grade up, you’ll have to hang up the spandex for a while.”) Peter sulked by himself.

 

Now, Sam wasn’t a scientist, far from it, but he had a hypothesis.  The latest Avengers gossip (while the teen wasn’t in the building) was that Peter is secretly a really good dancer.  Steve said it initially, everyone calling bullshit. Then Natasha and Tony attested, the latter taunting everyone, claiming he had footage, but refusing to show anyone, saying that if Peter found out he had it then the kid would never forgive him.  After three claims, it was believable. The only outlier was Shuri (via interrupting a serious call between T’challa and Bucky) saying she had a video of Peter dancing in drag to the song Umbrella by Rihanna.  _ That _ , was less realistic.

 

Sam was curious to say the least.  Part of him believed the stories. He was like a Shih Tzu, bounding around with so much energy it didn’t seem humanly possible, constantly running his mouth.  Other than being a masked vigilante, it only made sense that he needed other vessels to push his stamina towards. The other part of him couldn’t see the klutz of a superhero doing anything Natasha said.

 

He had a plan.

 

He conspired with FRIDAY, telling the AI to allow him access to the living room cameras for the day.

 

_ “I’m not so sure about that, Mr. Wilson.” _

 

_ “Come on, it’s for the greater good, I need to see this for myself.” _

 

_ “I will have to alert the boss about this.” _

 

_ “Yeah, yeah, whatever.  You can tell him tomorrow, I want to witness it firsthand.” _

 

“Hey Arachni-kid!”  he called out, knowing Peter could probably hear him, but he didn’t know how far the kid’s super hearing went, “come to the kitchen, I made brownies!”

 

Sam was dusting the cooling dessert with powdered sugar when he heard Peter walk in.  First step done, lure out the little monster.

 

“Ooh, that smells fresh out of the oven,” Peter leaned over to snatch one but Sam slapped his hand.

 

“Ah!  It’s still hot, you’ll burn your mouth, doofus.”

 

“That’s the best part!”  Sam rolled his eyes, letting Peter stuff his mouth, grinning in satisfaction when the teen scrunched his face in pain.  He knowingly handed Peter a glass of milk, who took it gratefully.

 

“It’s so good,”  Peter said, grabbing another

 

“I know, I’m a kitchen whiz,”  Sam patted his apron, which sloganed those words in all caps, “want to watch a movie with me?”

 

“Sure!”  The teen finished stuffing his mouth, but decided to bring the baking tray with him to the living room, “what’re we watching, birdman?”  

 

“Never say that in my presence ever again”  

 

“Sorry, birdman.”

 

“I have an idea, since you think any movie older than you belongs in a museum, we’re gonna watch a cult classic.”

 

“Ooh!  Can we watch Star Wars, Mr. Wilson?”

 

“No, that may work on Stark but it won’t work on me,”  Sam grinned, “we’re going to watch Charlie’s Angels.”

 

Peter frowned, “Uh, what?”

 

“Don’t tell me you haven't seen it, it’s a classic.”

 

“Well you’re not going to like what I'm going to say.”

 

Sam gasped in mock offense, “FRIDAY, please start the movie.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Wilson.”  the accented AI responded.  If it was possible, there was a hint of teasing in her voice.  

 

Perfect, second step done.

 

They watched in comfortable silence, action movies hold some sort of comedy when they, as superheroes, don’t need stunt doubles.  It was almost comical.

 

Sam was looking at the settings of his phone while Peter intently watched the screen.  He waited for the right moment then played a ringtone as if someone was calling him. Peter looked up, a quizzical expression on his face.

 

“Sorry, someone’s calling me.  Keeping watching, I’ll be right back.”  He reassured the teen. Peter smiled and turned back to continue watching.  Third step done.

 

He quickly rode the elevator up to his own quarters and asked FRIDAY to pull up the security cameras for the living room.

 

He made it just in time.  Peter was sitting on the ceiling (something he wasn't allowed to do, but he took advantage of once the only other adult left) and Billie Jean started playing on the big screen.

 

Peter jumped to his feet, completely upside down, but the smile he had was still clear no matter the way he was facing.  He looked around, making sure Sam wasn't there, and started dancing.

 

_ Aha! _

 

Sam watched as the boy started doing iconic Michael Jackson dances.  Even that weird smooth criminal move where he kept his feet planted and leaned forward so he was at an impossible angle.  He probably used his sticky feet to make sure he wasn't going to fall off the ceiling.

 

The best part in the short song was when he witnessed fifteen-year-old Peter Parker moon-walking upside down.  He glided like he transported himself to the 80s.

 

“Oh, God bless you FRIDAY.”

 

He transferred the video to his files, now a lead competitor against Stark, he had leverage.  Who would rather watch Peter salsa dance or Thriller?

 

The song finished and Sam made his way back down.  Peter was on the couch, looking like he hadn’t moved at all.  He raised his hand in greeting before shoving a brownie in his mouth.  Sam took his previous seat and Peter snuggled against him. Peter allowed himself to have Sam card his fingers through his curls, relaxing into the hero, careful about his healing wound.

 

After a while, Sam spoke up, “Your moonwalk is really good, by the way.”

 

Peter’s eyes, previously closed, shot open and he groaned, “Not again.”

 

“So the rumors are true!”  

 

“Wait, what rumors?”

 

“Nothing, keep watching the movie, this part’s really good.”

 

“Ughh!”  Peter rolled and shoved his face into a couch pillow, “great.”

 

Sam just pat the teen’s back, “You’ll get over it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> confession: i've never watched charlie's angels
> 
> (also, headcanon that peter did the umbrella dance because shuri said he couldn't)


	5. Clint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay,, so the formatting of this one gets weird, but pls bear w it , it'll make sense in a bit !!

Thursday

 

Clint often took advantage of his stealth.

 

Usually it was to prank the others, especially since he spent so long under house arrest and repeatedly pulling the rug out from under his dog Lucky wasn’t fun anymore.

 

Now that he spent a lot of time at the tower he was exposed to floors of test subjects.  He was unfortunately only limited to the Avengers Quarters; apparently covering every seat in the lobby with superglue was “bad for business”.  Clint was just thankful he was still able to continue scaring the life out of soldiers and scientists.

 

Clint was driving to the tower from his house with an idea blooming in his head.  Tapping along to the music playing, he formed a prank to play on whoever was in the living room.  It was a Thursday, meaning T-Day. Everyone would be in the training room, or mostly. Someone usually took that day off due to injuries or missions.  Clint prided himself on only ever missing one day, and it was for his son’s middle school graduation.

 

Getting to the tower, he rode up to his room.  His room had the beginning of the vent system, allowing him free access to anywhere he wanted, dropping down in style.

 

He made his way over the living room, quietly lifting up a panel to peek down.  There was only one person in there, Peter.

 

_Yes!_  Clint gave himself a pat on the back for subconsciously buying two cans of silly string, a fitting end to a spider-themed hero.

 

Peter was drinking a bottle of water, looking seemingly tired.  There was a little bit of sweat on his forehead, so maybe he was taking a break away from the training session.  But usually someone doesn’t train looking so _boujee_ ; he had on black joggers, an oversized white hoodie, and white Adidas shoes.  He recognized the shoes as a gift from Bucky last Christmas, but didn’t understand what the whole look was about.  

 

Peter had something pulled up on the tv, and from the looks of it, it was a dance tutorial.  It was completely in Korean and Clint turned up his hearing aids to let him see if he could translate.  He was a bit rusty since his last meeting in Korea was due to a crazy robot bitchass named Ultron.

 

Peter clicked off the video via a Starkpad and changed it to another.  ([ https://youtu.be/dDnYHX7opnk ](https://youtu.be/dDnYHX7opnk))

 

Clint realized, _This must be what everyone’s talking about!_  Peter wasn’t participating in the training at all, he was in the living room dancing.  He quietly shuffled, getting ready to watch him dance.

 

His jaw dropped.  This can’t be Peter Parker.  

 

Beyoncé?

 

He was so shocked after Peter finished in a kneeling position he fell out of the shaft and onto the ground with a thud.

 

Peter let out a high-pitched scream as Clint rolled onto his side, groaning.

 

“What were you doing in the vents?!”  Peter exclaimed

 

“‘Hi Clint!  Are you okay, Clint?  How’s your back, you took a pretty bad fall, Clint.’”  The archer rambled getting to his feet, “I’d like to feel cared for every once in a while.”

 

Peter faked anger, “But you kind of just appeared.  It gave me a heart attack, _I’d like_ a little warning before you decide to drop in.”

 

“Oh yes, I’m sure I was obligated to let you know I was going to fall into the room.”

 

“Exactly!  You know, for a guy named after a bird, you’d think he’s a bit agile.”

 

“That was an offensive statement of the highest order.  I am agile, you didn’t notice me while you were clubbing just now.  Also what’s up with the outfit?”

 

Peter made a noise akin of wailing and threw his head back, “I can’t believe all of you keep seeing me dancing.”

 

“Well, you’re in the _communal_ living room.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

“Hey, you didn’t answer my question,”  Clint gestured at Peter’s _edgy teenager ensemble_ , “you look like you advertise for Supreme.”

 

“How do you know what Supreme is?”

 

“I have a kid the same age as you, don’t you think he’d be asking for that overpriced shit?”

 

“Yeah, it’s a waste of money.  I’m not wearing supreme.” Peter lifted his arms and showed the archer his sleeve that said in bolded black **DKNY**

 

Clint hummed at the brand, “Do you even know what that stands for?”

 

“Uh, Donkey Kong never yeets.”  Peter said matter-of-factly

 

“What the f-”

 

“Peter!  Are you okay?”  Tony ran in, instantly fretting over the fifteen-year-old, “FRIDAY told me you were screaming, are you hurt?  A-”

 

He took in the scene of Peter in his get-up, Clint holding silly string, and a hip hop video on the screen (which was still going).  A smile stretched across the billionaire’s face, “Oh my God.”

 

Peter threw up his hands, “I give up, I’m going to the training room, my alone time is over.”

 

He walked into the elevator going on about how everyone should “go back to sleep and starve”.

 

“Were you sleeping?”  

 

“No?”

 

“Uh, okay.  Anyway, now I believe you.”  Clint pointed at the tv which was about to autoplay a dance choreographed to a song called Finesse.

 

“I told you the kid could dance.”  Tony relished the fact that he, once again, was right

 

“He looked like he was twerking.”

 

“He _what._ ”

 

“Who was twerking?”  The rest of the team walked in.

 

_Well_ , Clint thought, _Peter’s going to be in for a shock when he finds the training room empty._

 

“What’s twerking?”

 

“I’ll tell you later, Steve.”

 

“I think you mean you’ll show him later, Bucky.”

 

“Shut up, I don’t want to be a part of this.”

 

“No one asked you.”

 

“No one asked to hear that, either.”

 

Clint interrupted, “I can tell training went splendidly.”

 

“She pushed me off the fucking platform.”  Sam said pointedly at Wanda

 

“I didn’t touch you.”

 

“You used your weird magic thing, don’t play me like that.”

 

“It went well for me”  Natasha said, sitting down

 

“Oh, shut up”

 

“Where’s Peter?”  Vision asked

 

“I caught him dancing and he fled, right FRI?”  Clint said triumphantly

 

“Yes, Mr. Barton.  You also fell from the ceiling”

 

“Okay that wasn’t necessary”

 

Protests erupted, all asking to see.

 

“Wait, I have a video that’s better than his”  Tony waved his hands in the way that said _why are you not paying attention to me_

 

“No, I do,”  Sam said, “he was full on Eighties”

 

“Well how about show and tell when Pete’s out of the building?  Best video wins”

 

“Wins what?”

 

“The satisfaction”

 

Sam shrugged, “Good enough for me”

 

“Alright, who else wants to participate?”

 

“I’ll do it, I have a video from practice yesterday.”  Natasha said

 

“What do you practice?”

 

“You’ll see.”

 

~

 

**UP FIRST-  SAM**

Sam:  I’m feeling confident, who doesn't want to see the Spider-boy moonwalking?  That’s such a classic move!

**PLAY**

Steve:  You know he’s not allowed on the ceiling, Sam

Rhodes:  Was this the day where we were on a mission in Washington?

Vision:  It looks like it

Thor:  I don't understand this dancing style

Tony:  Is that Charlie’s Angels?

Bucky:  What’s that?

Wanda:  Oh, we’re so going to have you do the pose

Scott:  Look! He’s doing the Smooth Criminal move!

Natasha:  That was cool, I’ll admit

Bruce:  That looked dangerous.  Where’s my inhaler?

**END VIDEO**

Sam:  That was more negative than positive, I'm upset

 

**UP NEXT- TONY**  

Tony:  Come on, who doesn't love salsa dancing?

**PLAY**

Clint:  Oh damn!

Vision:  He's not facing forward

Steve:  I like this one!

Bucky:  What's the song even saying?

Wanda:  I've never been to Havana, is it nice there?  
Scott:  This is an overplayed song, minus five points

Tony:  Who asked you?

Sam:  This doesn't count, you can't even see his face

Bruce:  My hips broke watching that

Rhodes:  Peter looks like he's a well-versed dancer, where did he learn to do salsa dance?

Thor:  Asgard has a traditional dance that ends with a sacrifice

Tony:  Yeah, we're not going to do that

**END VIDEO** ****

Tony:  See! Can I get an applause sound effect?

_*applause*_

Tony:  Thanks, FRI

 

**UP NEXT- CLINT** ****

Clint:  I'm here tonight for one mission and one mission only, destroy the competition

**PLAY**

Rhodes:  He's really hitting those beats

Steve:  Is this how kids dance nowadays?

Tony:  I sure hope not 

Scott:  He looks like he's modeling for supreme

Clint:  That's what I said!

Bruce:  Oof, he must be hot in that hoodie

Wanda:  Now I want to learn that dance

Vision:  Oh

Bucky:  Is this Beyoncé?!  Oh my God!

Sam:  You like Queen B?!

Bucky:  Yeah!

Sam:  Yeah?!

Thor:  Who is Queen B?  What kingdom does she rule?

Bucky:  The music industry

Natasha:  That dance was vulgar  
Wanda:  AHAHA! Did Clint just fall out of the vents?

Clint:  Okay, FRIDAY stop the video

**END VIDEO** ****

Clint:  FRIDAY, I told you to cut the end out

 

**UP LAST- NATASHA** ****

Natasha:  Why are we doing interviews?  This isn't The Office.

**PLAY**

Clint:  Ew, it's filmed in portrait mode

Natasha:  Because I took it on my phone, shut the hell up, Barton

Steve:  Woah, look at Peter go!

Thor:  I like this video, he looks at peace

Sam:  Oh shit!  He just did the splits in the air

Scott:  That's called a leap

Bucky:  How do you know that?

Scott:  My daughter, she's my little ballerina

Wanda:  Aw

Vision:  Peter is really graceful

Rhodes:  That's good, he usually trips over his own two feet

Bruce:  Wait, so what's going on?

Natasha:  I choreographed a small routine incorporating the basics he just learned

Tony:  So he takes ballet lessons from you?  I actually like that, please keep taking videos

**END VIDEO** ****

Natasha:  I think it's safe to say I won

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so if u didnt catch that, these losers had a whole watching party complete w interviews and everything once peter left  
> also i made that outfit of peter's super specific bc when i was learning the 7/11 dance i wore those exact clothes
> 
> so sorry for lack of updates ! :((


	6. Peter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter has been published early as a sorry for slow updates !!
> 
> also, news ! i started a tumblr for this account !! i'm still super confused on how it works, but if you wanna pop on over there and give it a looksie and follow, then it would be greatly appreciated !! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/porcelaincarnival
> 
> warning: short sensory overload

Parker Luck worked like a weed.  

 

It always found a way to sprout among a garden of flowers that reserved their right to bloom.  It was the little germ that never seemed to go away. He could he having a great day, a rare rose among the ivy.  Then curling, intruding, _infecting_ , the bush was the cursed Parker Luck.  It lurked in the shadows, making Peter always feel like something was going to go wrong.

 

Tonight it seemed just that.

 

Peter had a good day at the decathlon competition.  He actually made it for once, May miraculously didn’t have work that saturday and came to watch, they won(!), and he was going to spend the weekend with the Avengers.  No matter how close he got to them or how much time he was around them, he never took for granted the excitement that came from pulling up in the parking lot.

 

He had a good day at the tower.  After dinner was game night, and they finally let him play Cards Against Humanity with them.  It didn't end well obviously and it took Thor threatening to call Loki to settle the argument about whether or not Clint should be allowed to play anymore.

 

Then it was time for bed.  Everyone said their goodnights, Tony giving Peter a hug and proud smile, then the teen was alone in his room.

 

He hoped he was going to have a peaceful sleep, he knew he needed all the energy he could for Sunday’s list of activities, mostly training.

 

Parker Luck didn’t work that way.

 

Another nightmare to add to the growing list.  This time he couldn’t even remember what it was about before bolting upright screaming.  Was it being trapped under a building? Or reliving losing his uncle?

 

He instinctually muffled the noise with his comforter, pulling it up to his mouth and smothering the tears that were already falling.  His heart raced and he pulled down the blanket because suddenly he couldn’t breathe. His already liquid vision started swimming and he couldn’t see straight, the darkness enveloping his senses that were going crazy.

 

 _You're not in danger_ , Peter’s logical side told him, _calm down_

 

But he couldn’t.  His brain pounded with fear that he was in a fight, after all, he wouldn't be awake in tears unless something was wrong.  What was wrong?

 

He choked on the running mucus that traveled to the back of his throat.  That wasn’t helping the lack of oxygen. He thought he was dying since the pain in his chest screamed bloody murder, or was it him?

 

He heard FRIDAY telling anyone who was awake, read, _everyone_ , in their rooms the same thing, “Mr. Parker is in distress, he seems to be having a panic attack.”

 

 _Oh, that makes sense_.  His murky brain processed that but he couldn’t focus.

 

Peter barely registered a few people running into his room, talking over each other.  The lights flickered on, blinding him and his head panged at the brightness. He squeezed his eyes shut.

 

There was too much input.

 

He heard multiple heartbeats, not only from the intruders, but seemingly every occupant in the tower.  Cars from the streets below and drunk people singing from ten blocks away. A helicopter overhead cutting the air rapidly.  He smelled different colognes, perfumes, and the food that sat in the unopened fridge. The air freshener that Pepper put up because she believed that it was getting too noxious after training sessions.  She was right, it was.

 

Peter’s hands were clamped over his eyes to stop the bright lights, but it filtered through the cracks of his fingers and he felt like he was going blind.  The bed he was occupying had too many threads; Peter could feel every stitch in the sides of the pillows and the air in the room pushing down on him.

 

Someone grabbed his forearms and he cried out at the touch.  He continued to sob.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Hey, let go of him.”

 

Their whispered voices were so fucking _loud_.

 

“FRIDAY turn off the goddamn lights.”  

 

The brightness of the room faded and he audibly sighed in relief.  

 

“You’re okay, kid, you’re not in danger.”  Tony was also whispering

 

Peter could sense his hands hovering above his back and in front of his face.

 

He had two types of sensory overloads.  Ones that lasted all day to the point where he comes close to fainting at school because of the fluorescent white lights and throngs of bodies that took up the hallways or ones that lasted a few minutes but the pain was amplified tenfold.

 

Thankfully, Parker Luck spared him just a bit and it was the latter.

 

He breathed out long breaths as request to the heroes telling him to slow down and felt the nausea drain away.

 

He leaned forward into Tony’s hand and relaxed.

 

“You’re alright, you’re alright.”  Tony repeated like a mantra, he noticed that the man also relaxed at Peter’s action

 

“I’ll get him some water.”  Natasha left the room

 

“I-I’m sorry.”  he croaked

 

“Pete, you don’t have to apologize”  He heard Steve sit on the end of the bed; the mattress dipped under his weight.

 

“For w-waking everyone up, for-”

 

“You don’t have to apologize for something out of your control,”  Tony said, “do you want to go to the lounge? It’s sort of warm in your room, it’ll make you feel better.”

 

Peter nodded, eyes still shut.

 

With help, they led him to the living room and onto the couch.  They soon were all settled around him, another sleepless night in action.  Peter finally opened his eyes when Natasha handed him a glass, they adjusted to see the team relaxed either onto one of the couches or the carpet.

 

There was soft conversation, and finally they settled into a comfortable silence.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Peter…”  

 

Bucky gave him a look that plainly said _don’t you dare apologize_

 

“No, for something else.  Sorry I kept trying to hide dancing from you guys.”

 

A confused expression ghosted everyone’s face.

 

“What?”

 

“I don’t know, I always kept that side of me private.”

 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” Clint smiled, “we could totally have a dance party right now.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Of course, bud.”

 

“FRIDAY, play something from Peter’s playlist”  Tony instructed

 

Instantly, _Dancing Queen_ by ABBA came on.

 

“Aww, yeah,”  Bruce said, Natasha pulling him off the armchair he was comfortably lying on and they began dancing.  Thor sprung up, wanting to join the festivities right away.

 

 _You can dance_   
_You can jive_   
_Having the time of your life_   
_Ooh, see that girl_   
_Watch that scene_ _  
Dig in the dancing queen_

 

Sam laughed and pushed Scott off the couch, forcing him to dance first.  Wanda and Vision held hands and moved to the rhythm, Vision a little clumsy but they laughed anyway.

 

 _Friday night and the lights are low_ _  
_ _Looking out for a place to go_

 _Where they play the right music_ _  
_ _Getting in the swing_

 _You come to look for a king_   
_Anybody could be that guy_   
_Night is young and the music's high_ _  
With a bit of rock music_

 _Everything is fine_   
_You're in the mood for a dance_ _  
And when you get the chance_

 

Steve and Bucky danced together, smiling softly at each other.  Clint tried doing a breakdancing move before he slipped on the rug and fell onto his face.  Rhodey remained sitting but grooved on his own, having fun nonetheless. The best part about that song was that it could either be swayed to slowly or an energetic party, it was all up to preference.

 

 _You are the dancing queen_   
_Young and sweet_   
_Only seventeen_  
 _Dancing queen_

 _Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah_   
_You can dance_   
_You can jive_   
_Having the time of your life_   
_Ooh, see that girl_   
_Watch that scene_   
_Dig in the dancing queen_   


Pepper had walked in after the music started and grinned at the whole situation.  Thor was pointing at people and gesturing them to groove with him, and getting them to laugh.  Wanda and Vision had begun slow dancing, oblivious to Sam jumping around beside them. Pepper made her way over to Tony, who was sitting beside Peter.

 

 _You're a teaser, you turn 'em on_   
_Leave 'em burning and then you're gone_   
_Looking out for another_   
_Anyone will do_   
_You're in the mood for a dance_ _  
And when you get the chance_

 

“Aren’t you going to join them?”  She asked the teen, who was obviously enjoying himself.  It was three am and the Avengers were getting down to a one of the best songs of all time.  Tony nudged him, “Come on, kiddo, you’re the dancer here.”

 

“The dancing queen,”  Pepper corrected

 

“That was so cheesy,”  Peter said beaming

 

 _You are the dancing queen_   
_Young and sweet_   
_Only seventeen_   
_Dancing queen_ _  
Feel the beat from the tambourine, oh yeah_

 

Tony and Pepper stood and pulled up the giggling hero and began dancing.  The others cheered when they saw that Peter was standing and already bopping.  They pulled him into the circle and, lo and behold, Peter knew choreography and started doing it.

 

 _You can dance_   
_You can jive_   
_Having the time of your life_   
_Ooh, see that girl_ _  
Watch that scene_

 _Dig in the dancing queen_ _  
_ _Dig in the dancing queen_

 

The song was ending, but the party kept going.  Soon, they were going through Peter’s entire playlist.  By the time the sun came up and the birds started chirping, the world’s mightiest heroes were lying on the ground, intertwined legs and touching hands, lax and happy.  Their youngest was in the center, overlapped by Tony’s arm and Wanda’s leg. He was asleep, a peaceful look graced his features. They were breathing simultaneously, hearts beating at the same time.

 

“Should we wake him up?”  Bruce murmured against Natasha’s shoulder

 

“No,”  Steve, who was using Bucky’s normal arm as a pillow, said, “let the kid sleep, he deserves it.”

 

There was quiet for a bit.

 

“We don’t deserve him,”  Bucky said

 

Peter fought the urge to smile at that, having to keep up the look that he was still unconscious.  So he snuggled against Tony’s side and Tony wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulders. They all shifted, getting comfortable and quickly falling asleep.  Soon, Peter was the only one awake.

 

Having the time of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you if you have been reading this since the beginning and thank you so much to the readers who have been consistently leaving comments and kudos on my work, it is super encouraging and i appreciate it so much !!

**Author's Note:**

> leave a comment if you enjoyed !


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